Marine By Day, XMan By Night
by AnnikaMubarak
Summary: This is the story of how I finally became an X-Man...before THEY found me...and HE saved me, in more ways than one.
1. Prologue

**Hi, guys! Anni here! Sorry it took so long for me to get back into the swing of things. I've been COMPLETELY rewriting EVERYTHING since my computer was erased, and trust me, it ain't easy. Couple that with hunting for a job, and that's pretty much my life at this moment in time. It may take a while, but I promise, you'll get to read awesome material from the greatness that is me (dear God, I've been hanging around my sister _way_ too much!)**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine…anything you don't recognize is…(Santa didn't give me the rights to Logan like I asked. Yo, Saint Nick! Lay off the cookies, 'cause your ass is HUGE!)**

You know all those completely far-fetched, outta-this-world stories you hear about in the papers or on the news? About people who can walk through walls, read minds, control the weather or run across the country in a matter of seconds? They're not fake. Trust me…

I know.

The proper term for such beings is the label _Homo Mutanis_, but the world calls them other things: monsters, freaks, demons, abominations; some people, a very spare few, call them "gifted" or "special".

I would know…I live with them.

Better yet, I'm _one_ of them.

My name is Kaela Rae Blackhorse. I'm a sniper-turned-pilot in the United States Marine Corps…

And I'm a mutant.

No, the Marines don't know about my "gifts", because if they did, I'd be behind bars in Guantanamo for life before they could say, "Court Marshall". It's not like it would matter, because the bars would crumble into dust before my life was even halfway over, hell, even a _quarter_ over.

Basically, I'm immortal. Any wound I get heals almost instantly. The bigger stuff takes a bit longer, a few days or sometimes a week or two, but let's get to the point. I'm gonna be around for a long time, and there's nothing anyone can do about it, including me.

And lemme tell ya, I've tried _everything_:

Smoked like a chimney…coughed up the tar into the commode, still here.

Slit my wrists and bled into the bathtub…scared the livin' shit out of the staff and kids, still here.

More head-on collisions with trees and light poles than I can count…I'm _still_ on probation for the last one (how was I supposed to know that car belonged to the Professor?), and guess what: STILL HERE!

But hey, some good things come out of pretty shitty situations, and I've got one of the shittiest out there.

My other powers allow me to smell, hear and see practically anything, and that got me into the position of Head of Security for the place where I pretty much grew up, a fancy mansion retrofitted to become a boarding school in upstate New York.

These senses also allow me to be closer behaviorally to animals, getting me put in charge of the facility's stables, and even letting me have my own horse.

And, my skills in the Marines gave me the best job of all…

I get my own jet.

Well, it's not _mine_, per se, but I'm the only one allowed to drive it. Anyone else who wants to has to ask me first.

We, the "teachers" and I, use this jet to go pick up potential students who either live too far away from the facility or have run away from home, a common problem with mutant kids when their families and friends find out.

I know this…because it happened to me.

I was the result of a rape, an attempted murder gone unfinished. My mother was seventeen when I was born, and was nowhere near prepared to raise a kid, let alone a _mutant_, so I was put into the foster care system. Thank God, too, because if she'd waited, I probably wouldn't be here. Daddy came back, and shoot shoot, bang bang, no more mommy. He's rotting in the Federal Penitentiary awaiting the death sentence, whether it be the chair or lethal injection. He deserves it for what he did.

I was passed from house to house for about five years until my powers really started taking over. Thing is…out west, there are a lot of wild animals, namely coyotes, and they think of a defenseless toddler as a free meal. The dog tore half of the cartilage in my right ear, my claws came out, and the next thing my "caretakers" knew, I was sitting on a mauled coyote carcass, poking at my long-dried up stump of an ear. New home the next day.

I don't know why it took the Professor so long to find me, but I'm happy he did.

Especially after we found _him_.

This is the story of how the Statue of Liberty was almost used to turn world leaders into mutants (it wouldn't have worked anyway, Magneto never thinks his plans all the way through) and how I finally became an X-Man…

Before _they_ found me…

And _he_ saved me, in more ways than one…

**Sorry it's so short, but hey, this is just the Prologue. Things really get started in the next chapter.**

**R&R, s'il vous plait. Merci!**

**Anni.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Howdy, howdy, y'all! I'm SO sorry it took me so long to update. Between searching for a job and housework, coupled with the onset of the great pine-pollen wave hitting my portion of the South, I've been having a hard time focusing enough to write. That, and my "W" key decided now was a great time to get sticky. Ah, well. Thanks to Coriander Tea for a great first review! Love ya Cory babe!**

**Disclaimer: It's not mine, much as I wish it were so.**

**Warning: Rated T for language; rating subject to change later on (This is a LoganxO.C. after all!)**

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><p>Chapter One: Two-for-One<p>

It was your basic textbook mission: put yourself in the general vicinity of the mark, watch him/her like a hawk, radio to the team down the road when the mark left, tail from a safe distance. Seems easy, right?

Nah…_hell nah, _not even close.

First of all, usually I was part of the team parked down the road, and I was perfectly content with that fact. I could slouch in my pilot's chair with my feet up, nodding my head to the satellite radio, and only had to do anything when the mark shifted position, and that could take a while. But, no, this time I was the one keeping tabs on the mark, in the freezing cold, on a _motorcycle_, in the ass-crack of night.

Damn, I'd never missed the desert so hard.

"If you're listening, 'Cyke, you fuckin' suck," I grumbled not giving a shit that the asshole _could_ hear me, as well as Storm and perhaps the Professor.

"_Love you, too, Valkyrie. What's your 20?"_

"Mark's in a bar, was hitch-hiking with a trucker…what the hell's the name of this place again?"

"_Laughlin City."_

"Right…goin' in." With that final notification I finally got my Lakota ass inside, pulling off my hat and scratching my hair back into place as I looked around.

Not too bad…I could definitely have some fun in here, and that cage looked interesting.

"Could I get a Molson's, honey?" I requested the man behind the bar as I sat down, pulling my gloves from my hands a finger at a time.

"I'll need some I.D., sweetheart," he grumbled obviously not happy about being there. I felt his pain. I didn't wanna be there, and I wasn't even a local.

Nodding I reached into my back pocket and removed my military I.D. from my wallet, slapping it down on the bar before reaching back down into my coat pocket and pulling out my pack of cigarettes.

"Need a light?" the bartender asked shoving my I.D. back across the bar after observing it under a light. I guess they had problems with fakes, either that or it was just habit.

"Yeah."

Igniting a lighter, he allowed me to start up the Marlboro between my lips, adding an empty ashtray to the bar along with my beer. "Thank you for your service, Sergeant."

Nodding in appreciation, I instead swiveled around on my stool and sat facing the cage, catching sight of my mark as she entered, taking in the fact that she was wearing a shitload of layers. Whether for the cold or to control her powers, I wasn't sure, but I was leaning toward powers.

Poor kid…she looked _way_ outta her element.

"Mark in sight," I whispered having no prayer of being overheard in the din.

"_Copy."_

Exhaling a lungful of smoke, I quirked an impressed eyebrow as one of the boys in the cage was thrown into the chain-link wall by the other as if with no effort. _Damn._

"In all my years, I've never seen anything like it!" the emcee said into the microphone stepping into the cage as two men dragged the unconscious one out, the victor backtracking into his corner, chewing on the end of a lit cigar. "Are you gonna let _this_ man," he paused gesturing to the winner, "walk away with _your _money?"

"I'LL FIGHT HIM!"

_Good luck…poor bastard_. I couldn't help but shake my head. My bet was on the guy who'd won. This new guy was too cocky.

That…and the other guy was a mutant.

It wasn't obvious, but I could smell it.

"Ladies and gentlemen: our savior!" the emcee crowed before covering the microphone and leaning toward the new competitor.

"The one who won…what's his name?" I asked the bartender as he passed, waiting as he glanced up to the ring.

"Dunno…fight-name's Wolverine."

Nodding I turned back around to watch the match, wincing as "Wolverine" was thrown into the wall and kicked in the stomach before receiving an even harder hit to the balls. _Oh, shit…_

'Oh, shit,' was right, because suddenly Wolverine was up on a knee, arm extended and meeting the punch being thrown. No one else could, but I heard a metallic "clang" like steel bars knocking together as the fists met, smirking when the cocky one suddenly yelled and clutched his hand as Wolverine got to his feet. A punch to the gut doubled him over, and a fierce head-butt brought the "savior" to the mat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's winner, and _still_ 'King of the Cage'…the Wolverine."

The emcee was drowned out by a sea of 'boos' and catcalls as Wolverine made his way back to the corner, downing a shot of whiskey before inhaling through his cigar that hadn't been allowed enough time to go out.

"Give him a beer when he gets to the bar, on me, would ya, honey?" I ordered the bartender raising my own to Wolverine in a silent toast when I caught his eye, having been the only one who'd applauded his victory.

_I like him…he reminds me of someone…_

* * *

><p>The night moved along pretty quickly after that. This "Wolverine"…damn if he didn't get me the least bit hot and bothered…scrapped his way through a few more fights before finally leaving the cage, the bar emptying surprisingly fast when no one else got into the cage. But, then again, he <em>did<em> pound practically everyone who'd had a prayer of stepping in. Poor bastards.

The mark still sat petrified at the bar, glancing way too conspicuously at the tip jar. I winced in sympathy when the bartender caught her, and almost passed a few twenties into her hand, but the quiet rustle of static in my ear reminded me of why I was there in the first place. Hopefully, after today, she'd never have to steal again.

"I'll have a beer."

I glanced up, having been so lost in my thoughts about the mark that I missed Wolverine coming up to the bar and sitting down on a stool a couple away from my own, and mentally cussed myself out. _Bitch, no wonder you got shot in your trigger hand! Fuckin' pay attention or you might as well pull the trigger yourself…not that it would do any good._

"Compliments of the lady there. She enjoyed your fight," the bartender told him turning his cash away and gesturing towards me.

"…Thanks," he muttered bringing my "thinking" smile to my face, a tiny quirk of the corner of my mouth as if I were "thinking about smiling". Kitty had named it.

"Well, from one fighter to another," I paused moving my hair aside so he could see what was left of my right ear. "I give it as a sign of respect. Maybe one day you'll return the favor."

He snorted. "Doubt it."

"Whatever you say, Wolf Man," I murmured smirking in earnest this time when the "savior" came walking up behind him. _My lucky day…drinks and a show._

"You owe me some money," he ordered sporting a wicked black eye and still holding his hand close to himself. At least one or two knuckles were fractured; I could hear the bones shifting as he moved.

"C'mon, Stu," "savior's" friend muttered obviously trying to keep his friend from getting hurt even worse. I had to admire him for that. I may enjoy a good fight from time-to-time, but I'm a peacekeeper at heart.

"No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it," Stu continued. This guy was either brave, stupid, drunk, or a combination of the three.

"Stu, come on, it's not worth it," the friend added succeeding in pulling him a couple inches away before he leaned forward, situating his mouth about an inch from Wolverine's ear.

"_I know what you are._"

"Oh, boy, here we go," I groaned aloud to myself ignoring Cyclops asking in my ear what was going on. _This is gonna get uglier really fuckin' fast._

"You've lost your money; keep this up, you'll lose something else," Wolverine grit out sounding a millimeter from an all out growl.

As the two men turned away I started to relax hoping and slightly praying that they would just continue walking, but it seemed that God and the Great Spirits were putting me on hold as Stu suddenly turned around with an ominous and all-too-familiar _click_ of a switch-blade engaging with its handle.

"_LOOK OUT!"_ the mark shrieked.

I still can't believe what happened next.

In a span of two, maybe three seconds, Wolverine had launched himself from his stool, knocked Stu's switch-blade from his hand, and deployed two claws of some gleaming metal, pinning Stu's neck between them as well as trapping him against the wall, extending a third claw down the middle until the sharpened tip met the skin of his Adam's apple. I watched this all from where I'd thrown myself in front of the mark, hand beneath my jacket where it was wrapped around the grip of my 9mm.

Y'know…just in case.

My gaze shifted from Wolverine and his prisoner to the bartender as the old man unearthed a shotgun from beneath the bar, cocking it as he held it just behind Wolverine's ear. "Get out of my bar, freak."

_Okay…that one hurts._

What did Wolf Man do? He extended his other handful of claws and turned the shotgun into a _sawed off!_

"_So_ not helping your case here, jackass," I growled beneath my breath meeting his glare with one of my own when our eyes met. "Yeah. I meant for you to hear that."

With a glance between his prisoner and the former owner of a previously functional weapon, he withdrew his claws, straightened his jacket (causing the bartender to flinch backward) and stalked toward the door.

Withdrawing my hand from my piece, I turned to the mark and murmured, "The camper with the trailer. Hide under the tarp." Not bothering to see if she listened (thanks to the tracker under the lapel of her coat), I slapped enough cash to cover my tab onto the bar and headed out, glaring at the accumulated snow on the seat of my motorcycle before sweeping it off and straddling my favorite toy, second only to my _Blackbird._ Glancing up, I saw the mark cover herself with the tarp mere seconds before Wolf Man came into view. _Good girl._ "On the move. Heading your way."

"_Copy that."_

Bundling myself up tighter, I started the bike up and pulled out onto the road, heading west toward the rest of the team.

* * *

><p><em>Forty minutes later…<em>

BAM, BAM, BAM!

"Yo, 'Cyke, open up!" I roared beating my fist against the hatch. " 'Roro, c'mon, I'm freezin' my ass off!"

Jogging back a few steps I barely avoided getting beaned in the noggin as the ramp lowered, the bottom step disappearing into the snow at my feet.

"Get that bike in here before it starts to rust!" Scott called down not even bothering to come down and help with that task. Have you ever pushed a motorcycle through almost calf-deep snow? If you haven't, it sucks trying to do it by yourself. Not that I couldn't, of course, but it sucked having to.

"Gee, thanks for the help, oh Wise and Fearless Leader. What would a lowly X-Man such as myself do without your unwavering guidance?" I grunted digging a trench wider than the Professor's chair as I heaved the machine closer to the one we'd be using to get home.

"I dunno, wreck another one of the Professor's cars?"

"Hey, Santa called. Rudolph's got the flu, he needs you to fill in."

"Don't you have a fire to dance around or a pipe to smoke?"

"I know what _you_ fuckin' have! A long-ass _walk_ home!"

"You know what…dammit! I got nothin'," Scott sighed in defeat as I secured the final tether around the bike.

"HA!"

"All right, you two, that's _enough_. Kaela, on the comm. Radio the position to us when she's close," Storm ordered ever the mediator between me and Scott. For some weird reason, we just couldn't stand being in the same room together.

"Copy tha-," I broke off my head jacking toward the still open ramp as a scent I hadn't detected in months wafted its rancid way in. "Shit. Guys, get out there. We're about to have company," I ordered shedding my layers, coming up for air in my flight suit.

"What do you..?"

_BOOM!_

"Sabretooth. Move!"

That order was laced with what the kids have dubbed my "inner drill-sergeant", the slight inflection in my voice promising pain and suffering if I was ignored. Sensing this (at least I hope so), my former teachers made tracks down the ramp and started bookin' it toward the unexplained sound. "Valkyrie to Cyclops, whatcha got?"

"_Sabretooth found a way to stop traffic. Big ass pine across the road."_

_Uh-oh. _"Did he stop a camper hauling a trailer?" _Please say no, please say no…_

"_Affirmative."_

_Shit! _"Heads up, you two. That's her. Guy she's with is feral."

"_Two-for-one…great. Moving in."_

"Copy that." Now there was nothing for me to do except sit on my still-thawing ass and wait. That was one thing I hated about being home. Because of my commitment to the Marines, I couldn't be a full X-Man. They needed someone who could be ready to go within seconds of being alerted, but with the chance of being called lingering over my head, that couldn't be me until my enlistment ran out. Two more weeks, and I'd be free.

"_Cyclops to Valkyrie, get that bird off the ground!"_

"Copy that. Hang tight, guys, I'm comin'." Firing up the engines, I lifted off and hovered to their location…just as the camper's propane tank went up. I winced in sympathy when the explosion threw them to the ground, touching down within easy walking distance and lowering the ramp, beckoning the mark to me once she boarded as Ororo and Scott hauled an unconscious Wolverine onto the medical bench laid out for that very purpose. "What's your name, string-bean?" I asked gently.

"R-rogue," she stammered staring at me for a moment or two until recognition went off in her eyes. "You were in the bar! You helped us!"

"It's what we do. Take a seat," I instructed nodding my head toward the co-pilot's seat hoping Scott wouldn't be offended. Keying into the comm. and dialing home as I lifted off, I said, "Valkyrie to Professor X, roll out the welcome mat. We're gonna have some company."

"_Message received. Hurry home, dinner is waiting."_

Chuckling pleasantly, I replied, "You don't have to tell us twice. Valkyrie, out."

"Umm…V-valkyrie?"

"Call me 'Kaela', string-bean. Only the team calls me 'Valkyrie'."

"Kaela…where are you taking us?"

I couldn't help it. I smiled. "A safe place for people like us. We all grew up there. Don't worry, you're gonna love it."

God bless you, Professor Xavier.

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><p><strong>How was it? Good? Bad? In-between? Thanks again to Coriander Tea for a review to put me back on the map. Eternal gratefulness is yours.<strong>

**Little contest up for grabs: Who used the Chapter title in their dialogue, what section, what paragraph, and what sentence? Prize is a Chapter dedication. Don't worry, if you don't get it the first time, I'll be doing this every chapter.**

**R&R, s'il vous plait? Merci!**

**-Anni.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter took so long!**

**The chapter is dedicated to Coriander Tea, who had the right answer. The name of chapter one was used by Cyclops in the final part of the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Kaela and anything you don't recognize.**

Chapter Two: What Is This Place?

"Base X, this is _Blackbird_ on approach, requesting overhead doors be opened for reentry," I murmured into my comm., sending my security verification code through the channel to whoever was manning the controls on the ground.

"Blackbird, _Base X, request acknowledged and code verified. Doors open, beds made. Welcome home."_

I smiled to myself; Pete was at the controls tonight. The big Russian was sweet on me. "No place like it. Send Doc Grey to the hangar, we've got a new patient for her."

"_What did you do _this _time, Маленький ангел*?" _he asked. I could practically see the exasperated grimace on his face.

"It wasn't me! It was Sabretooth!" For a few seconds all I could hear over the channel was background static. "Colossus?"

"_She's on her way. Base, out."_

"Ooooh-_kay_, then. Everybody up, we're T-minus 50 seconds from touch-down," I called over my shoulder as the H.U.D. lit up with my landing vectors. As the Mansion finally came into view, I lifted my right hand from the controls and gently nudged our new student awake. "Hey, string-bean. Up and at 'em, hon."

"Huh? What?" she muttered groggily lifting her head from where it had previously rested on her shoulder. I kinda felt bad for that. Poor kid probably hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in a while.

"Take a gander at that, huh?" I smirked gesturing out the windscreen at the house and its surrounding property.

"…_Whoa._"

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Yeah, that's what I said the first time I saw it. Don't worry, though. You'll get used to it eventually."

"Really?"

"Nah."

Turning back to the windscreen and the projected landing vectors, I swung the craft around to where we hovered over the gaping hole in the ground that usually held the basketball court and eased us down.

"Hey, Kaela."

"Yeah, Scott?"

"Good flying."

Wow. I could count on one hand all the times Scott commented on my piloting without criticism. I think we were up to four now.

"Thanks."

"_Touch-down, touch-down. _Blackbird _is on the ground." _Pete's voice came through the speakers in the hangar.

"Close overhead doors." Powering down the jet and releasing my harness I stood from my seat, but not before pressing a tender kiss to the console. "Good job, Birdie."

"Birdie?" Rogue asked confused.

"Yeah, that's her name…and yes, she's a 'she'." Jerking my head toward the open ramp, I led the way out into the hangar, frowning in slight concern when I caught sight of Scott, Ororo, and Jean wheeling a still comatose Wolverine into the hallway leading toward the infirmary. Glancing down, my frown deepened when I saw that Rogue had seen them too. Placing my hand gently on her completely covered shoulder, I squeezed, waiting until she looked up to speak. "Don't worry. He's in good hands. He'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Definitely…"

"Kaela."

Turning toward the door, I immediately found the person who called me. Smiling despite myself, I strode toward the Professor and knelt down in front of his chair, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "Sorry we're late, Charles. Sabretooth decided to have some fun."

"I understand, dear child."

Pulling away, I got back to my feet and ushered Rogue forward. "Rogue, this is Professor Charles Xavier. He's been helping mutants discover and control their abilities since…well, let's just say, before my time."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, young lady. I know the road has been hard for you, but trust me when I say that you have nothing more to fear. Not while you're here. If you wish to stay, that is."

Smirking to myself, I walked past my former mentor and into the underground hallway, my smile growing wider when I caught sight of Pete leaning up against the wall outside the door to the control room. "Nice touch on the Matrix reference. I liked it."

"Один**, it was Matrix _Reloaded_, and два***, I figured you would," he replied the sound of his voice lulling me into a sense of security the way only he and the Professor knew how. "How did it go?"

"Textbook. Minor bar fight involving the feral we brought in and some egotistical drunk he beat in a cage match. Sabretooth threw a pine tree across the road and beat him up, but nothing a few optic blasts and a blizzard couldn't handle," I joked leaning my head against his shoulder as he kissed my temple and wrapped his arm around my back, leading me to a waiting elevator. "How're my kids?"

"They missed you, that's for certain. Cheyenne is miserable."

"She still hasn't dropped her foal? I thought for sure it would be today," I grumbled as the doors closed behind us and the car began to rise. If that mare didn't deliver soon, I was gonna lose the pot.

"Soon. Late tonight, if not tomorrow morning," Pete put in causing me to nod my head in agreement.

"That's what I'm thinkin'. I'm gonna grab a change of clothes and my sleeping bag before dinner. I'm taking watch tonight."

"Are you sure?" he asked as the doors opened on the ground floor of the Mansion.

"Yeah, I'm sure. See you later, hon." Stretching up onto my toes I kissed his cheek before jogging into the entryway and bounding up the stairs.

"INCOMING!"

Purely on instinct, I hit the deck on my belly and covered my head with my arms, just in time to avoid the barrage of paper airplanes and "snowballs" sailing through the air where my face had been moments before. A chorus of "Sorry, Kaela!"s came from both sides as I got to my feet and straightened my flight suit, picking a rogue plane from my hair.

"Clean these up before the others find you. And get downstairs, dinner's almost on the table." Shaking my head at the antics of the younger students, I continued to my room, play lunging at a few kids when they ran past me on the way to the cafeteria. This was one more reason why, though I'd loved being a soldier, I was anticipating my enlistment expiring. Living here was like having hundreds of younger brothers and sisters. I was part of a big-ass, hare-brained family that blew something up multiple times a week, and no matter how many times I wanted to pull out my hair…I loved them.

That was my train of thought as I swapped my flight suit for a pair of loose jeans and a faded t-shirt. As I pulled the shirt on over my head I paused, my thoughts straying down to the comatose feral. What was his story? Shrugging, I tossed that thought aside for later viewing and, grabbing my sleeping bag, made my way out of my quarters and back down the stairs, ducking into the kitchen for a sandwich and a bottle of water before finally entering the stables and poking my head over the door of the "labor & delivery" stall.

"Hey, there, Cheyenne. How ya feelin'?" I cooed dropping my things on a stray block of hay before cautiously walking up to the well-rounded bay mare. "Still nothin', huh?" Stretching her neck she butted my cheek with her nose, causing me to giggle and playfully swat her away. I gently yet firmly ran my hands over her, making my way toward her rear, but when my hands came to rest on her bulging stomach, I stopped. The muscle shrouding the foal was stiff, and as I pondered the cause, Cheyenne dropped her head and groaned, much as a laboring woman would.

"Well, all right, then. Looks like your little one's finally gonna make an appearance. I'll be right back, momma." Ducking out of the stall, I jogged down the walkway and grabbed a radio out of the charger in my office, pushing the talk button as I traced my steps back down the stables. "Pete, got your ears on, honey?"

"_On and open, возлюбленная****. What is it?"_

"Cheyenne's contracting. Baby's still a ways off, but things are startin' to move. Be prepared to wake the trainees during the night if I call."

"_Will do. Good luck."_

"Thanks. Call ya when you're needed." Hopping up onto the side wall of a neighboring stall, I leaned back against the support post and looked toward the mountains, sending a prayer to the Great Spirits to keep dam and foal safe during what was sure to be a long night…

…and wondering if my mother, cut down so early in her life, was up there watching me, and if she liked what she saw…

A drawn out, agonized whinny ripped me from sleep and dumped me off of the block of hay, my legs tangled in my sleeping bag. Groaning slightly at my cramped back and throbbing forehead, I glanced at my watch and over at my ward…before hurriedly kicking myself free of my sleeping bag and lunging for my radio. "Pete, you up?"

"_Da, Маленький ангел*. What's going on?"_

"Big Momma's taken to ground! I need you and the trainees to leave a trail of fuckin' **fire** getting here, copy?"

"_We're coming, Kaela. Hold on."_

Clipping my radio back to my belt, I parked my behind in the hay and lifted Cheyenne's head into my lap, tenderly crooning to her in Lakota while every once in a while glancing toward her rear, taking in the soaked hay around her hind legs. Damn, her membranes had burst.

"Kaela?"

"Get your ass in here, Comrade. Tabitha, take her head," I ordered as the stall door was thrown open, cradling Cheyenne's head in my hands before Tabitha took my place and instead kneeling in the amniotic fluid-soaked hay…and cursing at what I saw. "Fuck, the front hooves are out." Laying my hand down on the dam's rear flank, I accessed what limited telepathic powers I possessed and entered her mind, grimacing when I felt her pain. _Cheyenne, sweetheart, I need you to push._

_Hurts…hurts so much…make it stop!_

_It'll stop soon, honey, but you need to help me. _ As I sensed her muscles tighten in preparation, I ordered, _PUSH!_

An agonized whinny tore through her throat as the rest of the front legs and the foal's head was forced out. "Pete, gimme a hand here." Climbing to my feet, I grasped the foal around the shoulders as Pete took the hooves and, as Cheyenne pushed once again, pulled it the rest of the way out. When the filly slipped free, I collapsed onto my ass in the hay, the blood and viscera covered foal in my lap, already squirming. "Hey, there, little one. Welcome to Xavier's." Glancing up at the awestruck trainees, I smiled and said, "Congraulations, you guys. You just witnessed your first birthing. Anyone got a name?"

There was silence as they all contemplated potential names and I cleared the filly's lungs and severed the umbilical cord.

"Blackhawk."

Glancing up, I met Tabitha's eyes. "What?"

"Name her Blackhawk, because it sounds like a Native American tribe. I mean, Cheyenne's the name of a tribe, and you're Lakota. That, and she's all black."

Gazing down at the newborn, I nodded. "Perfect. Blackhawk. From the dam Cheyenne, sired by Longbow. Put it in the books, I need to get a shower." Transferring the foal to the ground I got up and made my way to the mudroom, jumping into the shower I'd installed there the previous year on leave. I fired up the water as hot as I could stand and picked up the heavy duty disinfectant soap Jeannie kept me stocked with. Delivering foals was a messy business, messy indeed.

_Kaela?_

Totally not expecting the intrusion, I let out a yelp, slapping my hands over my breasts. _Ya mind, Professor? Kinda cleanin' up, here!_

_I'm sorry, child, but Logan is awake._

_Who? _I replied resuming scrubbing the blood, dirt, and Spirits-knew-what-else off of my skin, turning a rather unflattering shade of pink from my efforts.

_I believe you know him as the—_

_Wolverine? Good to hear. What's that got to do with me?_

_I need to know what to do to make him consider staying until we know what Erik wants with him._

_I dunno…I'm sure it'll come to ya. You're good like that. _

_Thank you, child. How are Cheyenne and her foal?_

_Doing fine. Delivered a black filly. Tabitha named her Blackhawk._

_Excellent. I'll be down later today._

_Cool, cool, now…some privacy, if you please._

_Of course, child. Well done._

_Thanks, Professor. _"What'cha think, mom. How'd I do?" I murmured aloud glancing up at the ceiling as if I'd see her seventeen-year-old ghost…soul…whatever, sitting up in the rafters, swinging her feet without a care in the world, as it definitely should have been.

_That bastard…_

For once, I allowed my powers full control of my body, handing myself over to the Valkyrie, turning my usually grey-blue eyes a startling ice-blue shade that was almost white, they were so pale, and with an animalistic howl I lunged forward and buried my fist, claws and all, in the wall of the shower. The pain of the impact and the deploying "weapons" broke through to where I was in my mind, allowing me to regain control and push the Valkyrie back into her kennel. The emotions still intense and swirling, I laid my forehead against the cool tile and allowed the tears to come, the sobs soft and airy as they barely carried over the pounding water.

It might have been my imagination, but the sounds of beating drums, whistling flutes, and wailing voices wrapped me in their arms, giving me visions of bonfires hefting smoke into the heavens and colorful people in ornate costumes dancing as if the devil himself were coming and just moving their feet had the ability to keep him away indefinitely. The call of the eagles and the thundering of the hooves of buffalo and mustangs alike replaced the pulse of my heart, the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked Great Plains grass the air in my lungs. The taste of my grandmother's homemade fresh bread saturated my tongue as I finally opened my eyes, the water cold. Smiling softly to myself, I twisted the knobs into the "off" position and toweled off.

I knew where I was going when my enlistment finally expired. It was high time I paid my People a visit.

Walking out into the stables as I pulled my hair back, I stopped as a little girl of about five or six met my eyes, her head bent back almost to her shoulders to look me in the face. Cocking my eyebrow, I stared at her, glanced back at the mudroom, and then back at her, the pieces beginning to fall into place. _Was that…?_ "Did you do that?" I asked gesturing behind me to the shower, my brows almost meeting my hairline when she nodded. _Nice. _"Well, hun," I began, kneeling down in front of her, "We're normally supposed to ask someone if we can go inside their mind, but I'm gonna let it slide, since that was just what I needed to feel better. But _just_ this once," I finished holding up a finger for emphasis.

She nodded again, smiling wide and revealing a few missing baby teeth. This one was a world class cutie pie.

"You wanna see the baby horse with me?" I offered smiling myself when she nodded like a bobblehead, picking her up and settling her on my hip, glancing back when footsteps and the Professor's wheelchair met my ears and smirking.

"You owe a beer, Wolf Man."

**Translations:**

***Little Angel**

****One**

*****Two**

******Sweetheart**

**Thanks for reading! I'm gonna tell you now, the title of the chapter is not used by anyone in their dialogue. Here's the question: who **_**originally**_** used the chapter title in their dialogue in ****X-Men****? The prize is a chapter dedication.**

**Another round of applause for Coriander Tea. Great guess (cause it was the right one) and thanks for the tips.**

**R&R, s'il vous plait. Merci**

**-Anni**


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